


I Cannot Find the Words

by VesperRegina



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Early Work, Episode Tag, F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-14
Updated: 1998-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperRegina/pseuds/VesperRegina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another desertion prompts Scully to look back on a time of separation--love has its price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Cannot Find the Words

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: (Very tiny ones for) The Erlenmeyer Flask, Little Green Men, Triangle. Title from "I Love You" sung by Sarah Mclachlan.

I know, so well, this pattern that he repeats, out of his natural silence, or perhaps a strange compulsion to protect me. Our relationship of partners has survived for six years, despite his propensity to forsake me. As I sit by this inevitable hospital bed, my anger and love warring within me, a memory forces itself upon me.

I remember when they separated us the first time. How it struck me to the bone to be denied the chance to prove myself in a man's world, the chance to prove myself to a man that would give me all the due I was worth.

That first year I discovered what I knew always lay within me. Mulder gave me the chance to prove myself, but in that proving I lost what dignity I wanted, and also gained a dignity unexpected.

The desire to be strong among the men became secondary to being strong for him alone. In the process of being his friend, I lost my heart to him, and at times, my science to his persuasiveness, although all the things I have seen remain dim shadows.

I sit here, waiting, wanting him to awake and acknowledge what I have done to save him from the water that almost stole his breath, but I know that when he does awake, I will be calm. Still, I can't help but watch him, knowing that he cannot protest.

He pretends to have no claim on me, yet he once admitted that I was his territory. I have grown to know the difference between his innuendo and his truth, and there was truth in his eyes when he said that.

My only claim to him is that I have stood by him for all these years, and rescued, yes, _rescued_, him countless times. That is the dignity I have gained, to remain the strong tower he could run into.

In those first months we grew to understand each other, delving deep into each other's psyches. He used to be a profiler, and his natural instinct for classification of personalities would not prevent him from examining my behavior. I, in turn, began to dive into the mystery, the legend, if you will, of Fox Mulder.

Just when I began to know what made this enigmatic man tick, our partnership was severed brutally by the shadowy powers that haunted us. The night he called, his voice strained, was enough to let me know what it would be like without him there to greet me in the morning, even though I implied that there would be a morning.

And when we were apart, both of us doing our respective dirty work, I tried to communicate with him, but his stony disregard left me stunned, so I played it his way.

When I saw him standing there in the parking lot, I truly did not see what I told him I saw--Deep Throat standing in the shadows.

I saw a forsaken man, trying desperately to cling to the last vestiges of hope available to him. I saw a man whom I wanted to take home with me, with no fear that others would separate us further.

I tried to give him hope. I could not communicate what I really felt for him. Years later, appropriate words were spoken for me. How the deepest emotions we feel can be tied together neatly in rhythm and rhyme, and set to music, never ceases to amaze me.

Perhaps someday I will be able to say the words to him that I wish, those words that express what I feel when he comes back to me.

Perhaps someday, he will say them for me.

End.


End file.
